Cobwebs
by purewanderlust
Summary: Izzie Stevens can scrub the house and suck up cobwebs all she wants. But that won't clean up the mess her life has suddenly become. IzzieGeorge with some mention of CallieGeorge. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer:**** I do not own any of the characters of Seattle Grace, Grey's Anatomy, etc. Do not sue me. There's no money to get.**

**A/N: I got this idea while I was cleaning up around the house. It takes place between when Izzie and George sleep together and when they kiss in the elevator. Hope you enjoy. R&R!**

Cobwebs

Meredith opened the front door and dropped her keys on the table in the front hall. All the lights in the house were ablaze with a cheery yellow glow visible from space, despite the fact that it was two in the morning. Since Alex was working the graveyard shift, there was only one person who could've done it.

"Izzie!" Meredith shouted up the stairs. She received no reply, except for a strange sucking noise. It sounded suspiciously like a vacuum. Giving herself a moment to look around, Meredith noticed that the front hallway was meticulously clean. What she could see of the living room appeared much the same. "Izzie!"

At the top of the stairs, Meredith found Izzie, who was indeed running a vacuum. She looked a mess; her hair was flying loose from its bun and her eyes were red and puffy. She had on a pair of headphones, playing loud enough that Meredith could hear the music over the roar of the vacuum. When she spotted her roommate, Izzie waved cheerfully and continued cleaning.

Meredith gaped at her momentarily before reaching down and yanking the vacuum's plug from the wall. The sucking died away, but Izzie's music continued blaring. Izzie turned and stared blankly at her friend for a moment.

"What are you doing?!" demanded Meredith.

"Sorry, can't hear you!" the blonde answered loudly, before reaching down and plugging the machine back into the wall. She went back to her cleaning, singing along with her music. Meredith reached for the wall plug again, but was interrupted by the appearance of Cristina at the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here?" Meredith asked.

"What is she doing?" returned Cristina, raising an eyebrow.

"Just what I was trying to find out." Again, Meredith pulled the plug and the vacuum died. This time, Izzie reached down to start it without speaking to Meredith. "Iz?" No reply.

"Let me try." Cristina stepped over and plucked off Izzie's headphones. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning." answered Izzie. "Not illegal, is it?" Her voice was thick, as if she had been crying. She snatched the headphones back and plugged the vacuum back in.

Meredith looked to Cristina for help, but the surgeon just shrugged. "I don't know what to do."

With a sigh, Meredith turned back to Izzie and touched her lightly on the shoulder. "Iz, are you okay?" She wasn't expecting the reacting she got.

"Don't!" snapped the blonde, shrinking away. "Don't touch me!" Meredith stepped back like she's been slapped, a confused expression on her face. Izzie didn't seem to notice and resumed her rhythmic cleaning.

"C'mon." Cristina dragged Meredith away, an unusual look of compassion on her face. "Give her a while, okay?"

They two of them went back downstairs and rummaged through the refrigerator for some food. On the way, they noticed the spotless windows, floors and walls in all the downstairs rooms. The cobwebs that normally lurked in the corners had vanished.

"Has she ever done this before?" wondered Cristina.

Meredith shook her head. "One time she unpacked all my mom's stuff when she was upset--she said she liked to 'nest' when she was unhappy." she paused thoughtfully. "About a week ago, she stripped her bed and cleaned her entire room at four in the morning for no reason, but never something like this."

"Do you think we should do something?" asked the other women, pulling a pickle spear out of the jar and biting into it.

"I don't know." Meredith took the pickle from her and finished it. "Let her do her thing for a while. If it goes on too long, we can do something."

"Sure." Cristina went back to poking around in the fridge.

An hour and forty minutes later, Alex walked in the front door. He dropped his stuff and stuck his head into the living room. Cristina and Meredith were sprawled on the couch, Cristina with a pillow over her head. There was a loud, annoying _vrooming_ coming from upstairs.

"What's goin' on?" he asked. "Who's vacuuming at four in the morning?"

"Izzie." grumbled Meredith, snatching up a pillow herself and wrapping it around her head. "She's been doing it since two."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." Cristina snapped.

"She's upset." explained Meredith.

"What about?"

"You think we would just let her keep going if we knew?" growled Cristina.

"Well, let's go see what's bugging her." Alex started up the stairs. Cristina and Meredith followed, exchanging a glance.

"Hey, Iz. What'cha doing?" Alex said casually, hitting the off switch on the vacuum. Both Cristina and Meredith shook their heads frantically in an attempt to warn him. But it was too late.

"Leave me _alone_!" she yelled, swinging the vacuum hose at his. Alex backpedaled, looking appalled.

"Izzie, I'm your friend." he said in a soft voice that was very un-Alex like. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong!" lied Izzie, throwing down the hose. "I'm fine and nothing is wrong with me! Stop asking!" Before anyone could say anything else, she swept down the hallway and into the bathroom. She slammed the door and locked it, leaving her three friends, feeling rather concerned and confused, standing in the hall.

"So now what do we do?" questioned Cristina.

Alex shrugged. "Don't expect my help on the girly emotional stuff."

"We should call George." Meredith said decisively.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously! He's her best friend; he's probably the only one who she'll talk to."

"She's right." Alex agreed

Cristina looked at him blankly. "What is with you this morning, evil spawn?"

"I'm trying to be nice." he said in his defense.

"Oh, yeah, being _nice_." Cristina scoffed.

"I can do nice!" he shot back. "I just don't like _you_."

They would have continued bickering like this if Meredith hadn't stepped in. "Guys, this is not a good time to be fighting. Izzie needs us."

Cristina rolled her eyes, but stopped her teasing. "Are we calling George?"

"Yes. We're calling George."

* * *

Izzie sat, huddled on the bathroom floor, hugging a towel and trying not to start crying again. So much for keeping it together. Cleaning the entire house was clearly not the solution. No matter how many cobwebs she sucked up the vacuum, it wouldn't fix anything.

As far as she could see, the only solution to her dilemma was the dilemma himself.

George. Her best friend, George O'Malley. Except there was one tiny problem there too.

She was in love with her best friend. Izzie resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall and groan. She wasn't supposed to fall for her best friend.

Especially since he was married. Wait; that was also a problem.

It was also a problem that they had gotten drunk and had sex.

So, really, Izzie Stevens had three huge problems.

This time, she did bang her head on the door and moan. Then she buried her face in the fluffy yellow towel and tried very hard not to think.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted her not-thinking.

"Go away, Meredith." she snapped, her voice muffled by the towel. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I'm not Meredith." said a voice from the other side of the door, indignantly. Izzie recognized the voice easily, considering the goosebumps that rose on her neck.

"What are you doing here, George?" she managed to stay seated in front of the door, her voice only shaking slightly as she struggled to sound casual.

"Mer said you locked yourself in the bathroom and wouldn't come out." his voice was tight; he was clearly ill at ease. "And she said you ran a vacuum for two hours straight, possibly longer."

"And?" Izzie demanded. "Is any of that stuff illegal?"

"…no."

"Is it wrong?"

"No, but it certainly isn't normal." he retorted. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Early?"

"Izzie, let me in."

"No way."

"_Now_." George said so forcefully that Izzie was on her feet, unlocking the door before she even realized it.

He stepped into the room and Izzie realized that she was gawking. It was just George; they'd been friends for a long time, but suddenly his baby blue eyes and tousled coffee-colored hair were beautiful to her.

"Um…" she swallowed, trying to think of something to say.

George reacted in a similar manner. "Uh…"

They stood there, staring at each other in silence for what seemed like a very long time. Finally, George spoke up.

"What's the matter, Izzie?" he spoke gently, seeming genuinely concerned.

"Don't you_ know_?" she whispered, tears shimmering in her dark eyes.

He shifted uncomfortably. "We've talked about this, Izzie. I can't stay."

Izzie sat down on the edge of the bathtub and put her head in her hands. "You're leaving to go to freaking Mercy West just because of me?" she murmured. "We made a mistake, George, that's all it was. A mistake." Even as she spoke, she couldn't convince herself that it really had been. But if that was what it took to keep George around, she would lie through her teeth, no matter how painful it might be for her.

George hesitated for a moment and then sat down next to her. "It doesn't matter. I can't do it." his closed his eyes. "I cannot stay and _see_ you every single day." he opened his eyes and they were anguished.

"Why not?" she asked softly.

George was silent.

"Do you hate me?" despite her best intentions to the contrary, her tears began to spill over uncontrollably.

"No, not at all!" George cried, dismayed. "I could _never_ hate you, Izzie Stevens."

"Then why" she sobbed. "Are you leaving?"

And of course, George had no answer for that. "Please, Iz, don't cry." There was nothing he wanted to do more than wrap his arms around her and comfort her. Instead he reached out a shaking hand and wiped one of her tears away with his thumb. His hand stayed at her cheek. "Izzie, you have no idea how hard this is for me."

"You have no idea!" she countered. "I don't know what I'll do if you leave."

"I don't know what I'll do if I _stay_." he said quietly. "That's why I have to leave. Izzie…I'm married."

"I know." her voice was barely loud enough for him to hear. Neither of them spoke, and she brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. She stared up at him through black-brown eyes rimmed in red. "I'm sorry."

"Izzie…" George leaned toward her, still cupping her chin in his hand.

They were so close their noses almost touched. Izzie's breath caught in her throat as his lips gently brushed hers.

"I have to go." George stood abruptly and hurried out without looking back.

Izzie stared after him, her throat tightening. When she heard the front door slam downstairs, she dropped her head back into her hands and cried.

**A/N: That was more depressing than I thought it would be. Huh. Leave reviews to cheer me up!**


End file.
